


Until there is no end

by PacketofRedApples



Category: Alan Wake (Video Game)
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:05:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PacketofRedApples/pseuds/PacketofRedApples





	Until there is no end

The herald stands over the unconscious body, a smug grin about his face. He was satisfied with his work. After all, it was always a pleasure having the precious writer over for dinner. It takes a couple of seconds of admiring the other until Mr. Scratch unfolds the butterfly knife with one swift move of his hand, starting to hum as he straddles the body, shadows tying his arms and legs. 

It takes some initiative and hard work to stop the desire to praise just how good looking his reflection looks. Alan was lucky he got the chance to look like his mirror. The herald should’ve just cut up his face right there and then. But he stops and instead brings the knife to the champion of light’s shirt, cutting it up until his chest was revealed. 

At this he licks his lips and starts tracing the knife about, playing with the idea of stabbing it right into the writer’s chest until he’s left to bled out, waking and crying in pain. 

But that’s reckless. Even if he was reckless, that was a dumb move. Sadly they needed him alive. Such a shame. A waste of a good death. Of course, he could just slit the writer’s throat and watch him choke on his own blood. And how wonderful it would be. This was infuriating. The writer teased him so. The only person he liked and he didn’t return the emotion. How annoying. 

It’s not fair. Not fair. Not fair. 

In that moment he tenses, gripping harder at the knife. Before he can do more than see red, he draws real crimson. 

“Whoops.” Mr. Scratch’s voice is giddy as watches the other come to. For that he pauses and leans over the writhing body, beginning to lick the wound. 

“What the hell– what are you doing!? Stop that!”

Mr. Scratch pretends not to hear the writer. Continuing letting his cat like tongue press against the injury, licking up every droplet of blood. The taste is magnificent, so as he pulls away he licks his lips as if he had missed more droplets. Alan looks at him disgusted but of course Mr. Scratch cannot muster up a care about it. Seeing as the cut was forming blood slowly, the herald took the knife and slicing the skin more. Soon there were dozens of slashes over the writer’s chest and Wake was hissing in pain, struggling more now than before. Trying desperately to kick off the doppelganger. 

“This won’t do you any good, buddy.” Scratch offers as he finds more spots to cut the other’s chest. With enough blood covering the body, he grins and lowers himself to lick it off. “Weren’t not just blessed with looks, Wake. We’re lucky our blood taste so good. Isn’t it quite something?” The herald begins to laugh manically then, blood covering his lips. 

The chest and belly were both covered in various cuts, however, it wasn’t enough. Never enough.

At least this way he could get even.


End file.
